


and i am seeing stars.

by redhoods



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Basically, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is next to him and his fingers look longer than normal, wrapped around the joint he had rolled for himself, Isaac wants to touch them, wants to see what all they’re capable of. He’s deliberately avoiding looking at where Stiles’s lips are wrapped around the joint. For his own sanity.</p>
<p>Across from them on the floor, Scott is starfished, eyes closed, but he isn’t really breathing evenly, so Isaac figures he might be awake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and i am seeing stars.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea. this started out as stiles/isaac and gratuitous shotgunning but then scott wanted to join and welp.
> 
> not beta'd or anything.
> 
> i make no promises about quality.

Everything is sort of hazy, covered in a sort of fog, a feeling settled pleasantly in Isaac’s bones, like it keeps him floating away, because he feels so light that he might actually float away.

Stiles is next to him and his fingers look longer than normal, wrapped around the joint he had rolled for himself, Isaac wants to touch them, wants to see what all they’re capable of. He’s deliberately avoiding looking at where Stiles’s lips are wrapped around the joint. For his own sanity.

Across from them on the floor, Scott is starfished, eyes closed, but he isn’t really breathing evenly, so Isaac figures he might be awake.

Isaac yelps, shocked, when his fingers are suddenly burning and he realizes he had forgotten about his own joint and drops it to the ground in favor of sucking a finger into his mouth, trying to soothe the burn. When he looks up, Stiles is focused on him intently, eyes on his mouth where his finger is.

“You okay?” Scott asks, but hasn’t opened his eyes, so Isaac just hums and pulls his finger from his mouth with a pop. It’s sort of healing, slowly, the type of wolfsbane in the joint that Stiles had rolled for him and Scott specially hindering the process a bit.

Stiles’s eyes are hooded though, cheeks pink, pupils blown, and Isaac can’t focus on anything but that, especially when Stiles’s pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, watches the smirk that Stiles starts to sport, and looks away pointedly.

His attention is drawn pack when a stream of smoke is blown against the side of his face and blinks, turning to look at Stiles once more.

“Wanna hit?” Stiles asks and his voice is rough in a way that makes Isaac squirm, “It’s not as strong as - “ he pauses and gestures to the joint that Isaac had dropped.

Isaac considers, then shrugs, “Sure,” he replies eventually, realizing he had just been staring again. His blames his sluggish mind when he doesn’t really notice that Stiles is sliding into his lap, knees bracketing the outside of Isaac’s thighs. “Oh,” he states uselessly, pointlessly.

Stiles grins at him, “Didn’t think I’m gonna give you the last bit of my joint, did you?” He asks, but isn’t waiting for a response as he takes another pull, cheeks hollowing, before he’s slotting their mouths together. It takes Isaac a few seconds to process the smoke being breathed into his mouth before he clues in and sucks it in.

It doesn’t stop there though, because Stiles doesn’t pulls back, but presses in, licking into his mouth, chasing the taste of smoke away. It’s headier than the joints ever had hopes of being.

He pulls back then and Isaac tries to lean into it, but Stiles laughs a bit and pats his cheek, “Need to put this out,” he murmurs and Isaac lets him go.

Stiles isn’t gone long, automatically presses back in once the joint is dealt with, licking into Isaac’s mouth like he hadn’t even left. It’s slick, wet and sloppy, but so _so_ good. It should be awkward though, with Scott not six feet away, but all Isaac can focus on is the slide of Stiles’s lips over his, the movements of his tongue, so sure like he hadn’t expected of Stiles.

It’s even better when a hand fits in his hair and tugs, not really enough to hurt, but enough for him to feel it, though Stiles is pulling away and Isaac whines, actually whines. A flush spills onto his cheeks rapidly at the sound.

“Get a room!” Scott calls from behind them.

Stiles deters long enough to throw a pillow at him, “We are in a room,” he replies, but then he’s back, sucking kisses along Isaac’s jaw, muttering something about cutting diamonds. Isaac pays him no mind, to focused on the lips, teeth, and tongue against his skin.

“Wish I could leave a mark,” Stiles murmurs, into his ear, and tugs at the shell of his ear, before his hips start rolling. There’s no longer teeth or tongue, just Stiles panting hotly against his neck while he grinds into Isaac’s lap, like a couple of...oh, yeah, horny teenagers.

Isaac keens softly, fingers digging in as he grips onto Stiles’s hips, keeping him moving, “Can I?” He asks, because the idea has been planted and he can’t shake it, already nosing along Stiles’s jaw when he asks before he’s nipping at the skin when Stiles nods. It doesn’t take him long to worry a mark into the skin, nipping and sucking at it before he soothes it with his tongue, pulling back to admire his work. The spot is already splotchy red and he’s tempted to just sit and watch it purple, but Stiles rocks his hips, reminding him of what’s really happening.

They’re both distracted when Scott starts banging around, and he freezes under their attention, cheeks pink, “I’m just gonna...” he trails off and points towards the door, but Stiles is already sliding out of his lap, moving towards Scott, looking more predatory than...well, werewolves.

He ends up backing Scott into a wall and Isaac squirms, cause he kind of wants to do that, has wanted to for a while, and the blood pounding in his ears prevents him from hearing what Stiles says to Scott, but he hears, “...gonna make it awkward.”

Stiles laughs, reckless and carefree, before he’s slotting his mouth with Scott’s, like it’s natural. Like maybe they’ve done it before. Isaac wonders if they have.

They sort of melt together against the wall and Isaac feels left out, but is also really interested in the show, also the slick sounds of Stiles and Scott kissing. It could be ages, could be seconds, by the time they pull away and Isaac’s hand is on his own thigh, incredibly close to palming himself through his jeans without even realizing it.

There’s an exchange of words that Isaac doesn’t hear, before Stiles is dragging Scott over to where Isaac is splayed on the floor, leaning against Stiles’s bed. “This is going to be great,” Stiles mutters, before he’s swooping in to kiss Isaac again, and there are hands touching him, tentative, so Isaac figures it’s Scott and arches towards them.

“Relax, Scott,” Stiles murmurs when he breaks the kiss, not even looking towards his best friend as his fingers curl around the hem of Isaac’s shirt, already trying to push it up.

Scott takes Stiles’s place immediately, lips sliding over Isaac’s, and it’s good, so good. At least, until Stiles gets his shirt up his chest and they have to break it to get the shirt out of the way. Which, Isaac isn’t complaining, because Stiles is immediately attached to his skin and Scott is back kissing him.

He squirms, unsure of what to do under all the attention except maybe moan and try to touch what he can, a hand in Stiles’s hair and the other curled in the front of Scott’s shirt. Teeth close over his nipple and Isaac keens, arching towards Stiles’s mouth, while trying to get Scott’s shirt up and off at the same time.

“Taking it that you liked that,” Stiles murmurs against his skin and Isaac pinches his nipple through his shirt, breaking the kiss with Scott to tug his shirt up, huffing out a laugh when it gets caught around Scott’s shoulders.

Stiles is sucking at his hip and Isaac figures he’s trying to leave a mark, before there’s a mouth on him through his jeans and Isaac can’t stop his moan or the way his hips push up towards it. When he drops his head back against the bed, Scott’s eyes are hooded, but focused on Stiles and his mouth.

It’s hard not to be disappointed when Stiles pulls away and he and Scott are slotting their mouths together. Isaac huffs and sets out to get Stiles’s shirt off, but, “ _Fucking_ buttons,” he mutters and instead tugs it apart, ignoring the buttons or the indignant sound that Stiles makes, “You’ve got dozens of these, one without buttons won’t kill you.”

“Blue balls might kill you.”

Scott laughs and starts trying to wrestle Stiles out of his shirts, “Too much clothing,” he mutters and opens his mouth to say something else but only manages a groan because Isaac is doing his best to get a hand in Scott’s jeans. His best is apparently good enough, because he gets his hand in them, cupping Scott through his boxers.

“Playing dirty, Lahey,” Stiles says, once he’s managed to get out of his shirts, seeing what caused his friend to back off from helping.

Isaac isn’t concerned though, not with how Scott is shuddering and groaning, rocking against his palm, “Come on, out of these,” he instructs, tugging at Scott’s jeans ineffectually. And Scott nearly trips over himself in his haste to get them off.

Stiles laughs, but his attention is soon diverted to working on the fastenings of Isaac’s jeans and dragging them off his hips and his boxers just slide off with them. 

It should probably be embarrassing, at least, a little bit, but after changing in a locker room full of other teenage guys, it’s really not. Plus Stiles is looking at him like he wants to devour him, so it’s hard to feel self conscious under the weight of that gaze, especially when it’s joined with Scott’s, who’s finally out of his jeans.

“Jesus, look at you two,” Stiles mutters, almost unconsciously.

Scott rolls his eyes and leans over, pressing his lips to the corner of Stiles’s mouth, “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about either, y’know,” he mutters before fitting his hands to Stiles’s hips and pushing him towards bed, “Flat, soft surface.”

Isaac pushes up from the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed and tugging Stiles to stand between his legs, attention focused on undoing Stiles’s jeans, but not before he cops a feel, rubbing his palm against the line of Stiles’s dick through his jeans, smirking up at Stiles when he rocks into the touch.

Groaning, Stiles tangles his fingers in Isaac’s curls, tugging just a bit and shivering when Isaac nips at his hip in retaliation. Once his jeans and boxers are down far enough, Stiles kicks them away before knocking Isaac back on the bed and climbing up to straddle his hips.

Scott makes a weird sound, like someone’s strangling him, where he’s settled up at the head of the bed.

“Okay, Scotty boy?” Stiles asks teasingly, shooting him a smirk, but it’s disturbed by a groan when Isaac takes the initiative and rocks his hips up so their cocks slide together.

Flinging a hand out, Stiles gestures to the bedside table, not even bothering with words as he rocks his hips down into Isaac’s, leaning down to kiss Isaac, deep and filthy.

Huffing out a breath, Scott tugs at the bedside table, rustling around until he finds the bottle of lube he knows is there from a previous embarrassing experience, “On the bed, come on, in the center,” he instructed then, sliding a hand along the line of Stiles’s back and to his ass, squeezing it.

Isaac is the one to pull away first, and nearly gets an elbow to the eye when Stiles scrambles to move, but they end up at the head of the bed either way, “You gonna let me fuck you?” He asks near Stiles’s ear, just to see his reaction. It’s nearly instantaneous, pupils blown even wider and color high on his cheeks, and the sound he makes. Isaac wants to record it and play it on loop.

He can’t see Scott, but he has an idea of what’s going on when Stiles stills above him, then a shudder runs through him as he rocks back a bit. A grin tugs at his lips when Scott forms to Stiles’s back, mouthing along his shoulder, before he’s resting his chin there, observing Isaac, “I think you should fuck him,” and Isaac figures he does something, maybe twists his fingers, because Stiles practically shouts, melting against Isaac, “And I could fuck you,” Scott continues, once Stiles has settled.

“Yeah...yeah, lets do that.”

Scott grins and settles back some, scissoring his fingers, “You okay, Stiles?” He asks, pressing a kiss to Stiles’s lower back.

There’s a stifled groan and Isaac moans seconds later, “I think he’s okay,” Isaac murmurs, “He just bit the hell out of me though,” he adds.

“So-sorry,” Stiles manages, pushing up to glance at the mark, it takes longer than the others to fade, but it does, “M’good, Scott,” he states, after a few more seconds and a shaky moan.

Isaac wiggles his eyebrows at Scott and waits until Scott holds his hands up before the flips them, settling himself in between Stiles’s thighs, “Yeah, sure you’re good?” He asks, smirking down at Stiles as he rocks their hips together. He slumps back a bit though, when Scott forms against his back, cock trapped between their bodies.

A groan is pulled out of him when Scott rolls a condom on his cock and then wraps a lube slick hand over it and Isaac pushes into it, watching the way Stiles’s eyes are sort of glazing over, the top of his chest pink to match his cheeks, “You ready?” He questions softly, leaning down to nuzzle along Stiles’s neck, trapping Scott’s hand between them.

“Yeah, okay, _yes_ ,” is Stiles’s response and he huffs out a laugh, nodding some as he pushes up with an arm on either side of Stiles, shuddering some when Scott lines him up. He starts to press in slowly, spurned on by Scott grinding against his ass and the little punched out noises Stiles is making.

It seems to take forever for him to bottom out and he’s practically panting as he stills, to give Stiles time. “Oh, fuck,” Stiles mutters after a few seconds and rocks his hips a bit, drawing groans out of both of them, then, “Fuck,” again.

Isaac can only nod his agreement, leaning forwards to kiss Stiles and groaning into it when Scott presses a finger into him then. “A little warning would’ve been nice,” he practically growls against Stiles’s mouth, rocking his hips a little to gauge Stiles’s reaction.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Scott asks and then actually bites down on his ass cheek, causing Isaac to jerk his hips. Stiles groans below him, loud and unabashed, so Isaac circles his hips just to draw more noises out of him.

“Scott, you need to hurry the hell up,” Stiles practically shouts and Isaac laughs, nipping along Stiles’s chest, leaving little red marks in his wake, actually sinking his teeth in when Scott adds another finger. Pulling back, Isaac soothes the mark with his tongue, leaning up to kiss Stiles in apology, panting against his mouth when Scott starts scissoring his fingers.

Stilling his fingers, Scott leans against Isaac’s back, biting at his neck, “Ready or you need more?” He asks, punctuating his question by spreading his fingers. It doesn’t take him long after Isaac’s nod to pull away and roll a condom on, before he’s back and slowly pressing into Isaac, pressing his face into the back of Isaac’s neck.

“Shit, you should see his face, Scott,” Stiles starts, an arm curving around Isaac so he can grip Scott’s hip, “He’s blissed out,” he adds.

Humming softly, Scott presses a kiss between Isaac’s shoulderblades, “Lemme know when I can move,” he murmurs softly.

Sucking his lower lip into his mouth, Isaac experimentally rocks between the two of them, relishing in the hiss he draws out of Scott and the moan from Stiles, “This is gonna be over embarrassingly fast,” he replies, pressing his forehead against Stiles’s shoulder, then, “You can move.”

There’s an entire chorus of sounds drawn out with Scott’s first thrust. It’s slow, but it’s enough that when his hips are flush against Isaac’s ass again, Stiles has felt it too.

“McCall, I swear to god if you don’t move faster and harder, we’re voting you off the bed,” Stiles demands, nails digging into Scott’s hip.

Isaac hiccups out a laugh against Stiles’s skin, that’s immediately cut off when Scott pulls back and practically slams back in, pushing Isaac impossibly further into Stiles. “Fuck, okay, yeah, you can stay,” Stiles rambles out and how is he still coherent?

Scott sets up a brutal pace that eventually renders Stiles’s rambling into just noises and Isaac knows it’s not going to last long for him at all. He pushes up as much as he can to fit a hand around Stiles’s cock, not even focusing on a pace, just getting Stiles off.

It hits him like a freight train, though, and Isaac shudders through his orgasm, his hips jerking as he rides it out, “Fuck,” he manages, once he can actually breath decently, jerking Stiles once more.

Stiles follows him shortly, back arching away from the bed as he comes hard between them and over Isaac’s fist. They’re already in need of a shower so Isaac slumps down against him, face tucked against where Stiles’s pulse is rabbiting under his skin. 

“Come on, Scott,” Stiles urges and Isaac rocks back as best he can, grinning when he feels Scott’s thrusts stutter before he’s pressing tight against Isaac’s ass as his orgasm tears through him.

And then he drops forward against Isaac’s back and can’t even find it in himself to be sorry. At least, until Stiles pinches his hip and Scott sighs, easing out of Isaac, “Way to ruin the afterglow, Stilinski,” he mutters dryly, disposing of the condom before dropping on the bed.

Stiles doesn’t even move when Isaac pulls out and Scott rests his hands on Isaac’s hips to keep him balanced as he disposed of his own condom. “That was amazing,” Isaac says finally, sinking down onto the bed between the others.

“If I had known that getting you two high would lead to...” Stiles trails off, waving a hand that eventually drops across Isaac and Scott both. He yawns suddenly, arching his body in a stretch that makes Isaac think of a cat before Stiles is curling towards him, pressed along his side, “Shower later, nap now.”

Scott huffs, but shuffles around, pressing himself into Isaac’s other side, tangling their legs together, “Good plan.”

Isaac just manages a thumbs up, before they’re all drifting off.


End file.
